


Presence

by NuclearGers



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Ending, Dreams and Nightmares, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, Reddie, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie stop with the mom jokes, Sad Ending, Spoilers, You're gonna give Eddie an aneurysm, sap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-30 04:44:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20808743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NuclearGers/pseuds/NuclearGers
Summary: Richie dreams about Eddie, and then he wakes.(Comes with a sad ending and a bonus good ending.)





	1. Sad Ending ):

**Author's Note:**

> First "chapter" will be just the sad ending, and then the second, additional "chapter" will be the sad one with the happy ending following right after.  
Thanks for reading. <3

Richie watched his lover’s fingers as they traced the  _ R + E _ that had been re-carved deep into the old wood. Moving delicately, those digits followed every notch and curve with a fondness that even the comedian’s poorly-sighted eyes could see.

“You made this?” Eddie asked in a voice that was, for once, soft and slow.

Pink tinged Richie’s scruffy cheeks, and he nodded. “Yep.”

“When?”

Richie scuffed the road-dirt a little and felt the burn in his cheeks growing. “Jeez, I dunno. I mean, I just recently freshened it up a few days ago, but that shit’s been there since we were kids.”

A small frown came over Eddie’s face, but it was one of thought, like he was remembering something. He stood and turned to face Richie. “ Y’know , I think I recall seeing that way back when.” His smile came back, small and fond as his voice was just a moment ago. “I used to pass by it on my bike, and I remember hoping the ‘R’ and the ‘E’ stood for us.”

Richie’s thick brows raised some at that. “Wait, you mean back then you-?”

Eddie nodded.

“Wow...” He stood there and stared at the road; hands stuffed in his pockets and bottom lip tucked between his teeth, he was quiet and thoughtful for a moment, then, “Gee, that sure would’ve saved us a lot of time. Twenty-seven years, in fact. Way to drop the ball on that one, Ed.”

“Oh, fuck you, asshole!” The smaller man laughed and gave Richie a harmless shove. “You  coulda said something, too, dipshit.” He knew that wasn’t quite true given the way that Richie had struggled so terribly with himself all those years ago, and even now had some residual trouble that he was finally starting to work through. Still, he only meant his words in jest, and by the look on Richie’s face, he understood that.

“Well sorry, S’ghetti, but some of us prefer our pining to be aged like a fine wine.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes and stepped forward with a shake of his head. “Just kiss me, you idiot.”

Richie feigned offense, hand darting up to his chest to clutch imaginary pearls. “Here?? In public?? Like common delinquents?? What’s your next move, to take me under the bridge and get me pregnant??”

“Richie.”

“I’m not on the pill, Edward.”

“ _ Richie _ .”

“And comedy tours aren’t a proper environment to raise a baby in-.”

“Beep, beep, Richie.”

The comedian finally shut up and let Eddie cup his face. His eyes gave a nervous flicker on either side of them, but there was no one around to interfere, and the warm touch of his dearest friend quickly helped to put out that sudden, anxious spark. He closed the gap between them, giving Eddie a soft, brief kiss before he gently butted and pressed their foreheads together. 

“Man, I missed you – and I didn’t even know it.”

“Same here. Which is shocking, honestly, because who could forget an annoying loud-mouth like you?”

“Your mom didn’t seem to mind my loud mouth when it-.”

“Shut up.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, t-.”

* * *

Richie jolted awake when a tinny-sounding ringtone went off right beside his head from its perch on the nightstand. 

Dazed and groggy, he blindly swatted around for his phone before snatching it up and bringing it to his squinting face. The screen read ‘9:30 a.m.’, and he realized it was his alarm going off. He dismissed the damn thing and tossed his phone back onto the nightstand before flopping back into the sheets and slinging an arm over his tired face.

“Ed, why’d  ya let me set my alarm so late, huh?”

When there was no response, he kicked his leg out under the comforter but his foot made no contact with anything except cool sheets.

“Eddie?” Again, no response.

He dropped his arm from his face and looked over to his right, seeing his answer painfully and clearly. Eddie wasn’t responding because there was no Eddie there to do so. There was only empty air and a cold side of the bed.

Memory came back to Richie like a Mack truck, and it knocked the breath right out of him. Tears stung eyes, blurring their vision more, and he blinked them away only for more to follow. His shaky hand crept over to the unoccupied space and gently pawed it for warmth that wasn’t there, and any denial he was trying to muster up was quickly swept away. 

Eddie wasn’t here, had never been here, nor would he ever be. His bones were still buried beneath the rubble of the  Neibolt House, and all Richie had of the other man’s presence were his memories.

Richie’s face contorted for a moment and he grit his teeth hard, fingers digging into the sheets as a lonely, broken sound left him. He wheezed a few sobs through his teeth and let them wrack his body for a moment before he abruptly rolled into the cool side of the bed and yanked a pillow up against himself. He hugged it tightly with one arm while the other slung over into the spot he’d just been laying in. The denial started to creep back into his brain and his heart, and it allowed his reaching fingers to pretend for just a moment that the heat he’d left behind had actually been Eddie’s. 

Tears slipped freely down his cheeks and into the pillow and sheets as he tried to get sleep to take him over again so that maybe, just maybe, he could go right back to the dream he’d just left, right back to Eddie’s warmth.


	2. Happy Ending (:

Richie watched his lover’s fingers as they traced the _ R + E _ that had been re-carved deep into the old wood. Moving delicately, those digits followed every notch and curve with a fondness that even the comedian’s poorly-sighted eyes could see. 

“You made this?” Eddie asked in a voice that was, for once, soft and slow. 

Pink tinged Richie’s scruffy cheeks, and he nodded. “Yep.” 

“When?” 

Richie scuffed the road-dirt a little and felt the burn in his cheeks growing. “Jeez, I dunno. I mean, I just recently freshened it up a few days ago, but that shit’s been there since we were kids.” 

A small frown came over Eddie’s face, but it was one of thought, like he was remembering something. He stood and turned to face Richie. “Y’know, I think I recall seeing that way back when.” His smile came back, small and fond as his voice was just a moment ago. “I used to pass by it on my bike, and I remember hoping the ‘R’ and the ‘E’ stood for us.” 

Richie’s thick brows raised some at that. “Wait, you mean back then you-?” 

Eddie nodded. 

“Wow...” He stood there and stared at the road; hands stuffed in his pockets and bottom lip tucked between his teeth, he was quiet and thoughtful for a moment, then, “Gee, that sure would’ve saved us a lot of time. Twenty-seven years, in fact. Way to drop the ball on that one, Ed.” 

“Oh, fuck you, asshole!” The smaller man laughed and gave Richie a harmless shove. “You coulda said something, too, dipshit.” He knew that wasn’t quite true given the way that Richie had struggled so terribly with himself all those years ago, and even now had some residual trouble that he was finally starting to work through. Still, he only meant his words in jest, and by the look on Richie’s face, he understood that. 

“Well sorry, S’ghetti, but some of us prefer our pining to be aged like a fine wine.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes and stepped forward with a shake of his head. “Just kiss me, you idiot.” 

Richie feigned offense, hand darting up to his chest to clutch imaginary pearls. “Here?? In public?? Like common delinquents?? What’s your next move, to take me under the bridge and get me pregnant??” 

“Richie.” 

“I’m not on the pill, Edward.” 

“_ Richie _.” 

“And comedy tours aren’t a proper environment to raise a baby in-.” 

“Beep, beep, Richie.” 

The comedian finally shut up and let Eddie cup his face. His eyes gave a nervous flicker on either side of them, but there was no one around to interfere, and the warm touch of his dearest friend quickly helped to put out that sudden, anxious spark. He closed the gap between them, giving Eddie a soft, brief kiss before he gently butted and pressed their foreheads together. 

“Man, I missed you – and I didn’t even know it.” 

“Same here. Which is shocking, honestly, because who could forget an annoying loud-mouth like you?” 

“Your mom didn’t seem to mind my loud mouth when it-.” 

“Shut up.” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you, t-.” 

* * *

Richie jolted awake when a tinny-sounding ringtone went off right beside his head from its perch on the nightstand. 

Dazed and groggy, he blindly swatted around for his phone before snatching it up and bringing it to his squinting face. The screen read ‘9:30 a.m.’, and he realized it was his alarm going off. He dismissed the damn thing and tossed his phone back onto the nightstand before flopping back into the sheets and slinging an arm over his tired face. 

“Ed, why’d ya let me set my alarm so late, huh?” 

When there was no response, he kicked his leg out under the comforter but his foot made no contact with anything except cool sheets. 

“Eddie?” Again, no response. 

He dropped his arm from his face and looked over to his right, seeing his answer painfully and clearly. Eddie wasn’t responding because there was no Eddie there to do so. There was only empty air and a cold side of the bed. 

Memory came back to Richie like a Mack truck, and it knocked the breath right out of him. Tears stung eyes, blurring their vision more, and he blinked them away only for more to follow. His shaky hand crept over to the unoccupied space and gently pawed it for warmth that wasn’t there, and any denial he was trying to muster up was quickly swept away. 

Eddie wasn’t here, had never been here, nor would he ever be. His bones were still buried beneath the rubble of the Neibolt House, and all Richie had of the other man’s presence were his memories. 

Richie’s face contorted for a moment and he grit his teeth hard, fingers digging into the sheets as a lonely, broken sound left him. He wheezed a few sobs through his teeth and let them wrack his body for a moment before he abruptly rolled into the cool side of the bed and yanked a pillow up against himself. He hugged it tightly with one arm while the other slung over into the spot he’d just been laying in. The denial started to creep back into his brain and his heart, and it allowed his reaching fingers to pretend for just a moment that the heat he’d left behind had actually been Eddie’s. 

Tears slipped freely down his cheeks and into the pillow and sheets as he tried to get sleep to take him over again so that maybe, just maybe, he could go right back to the dream he’d just left, right back to Eddie’s warmth. 

* * *

Richie jolted awake for a second time when, once again, a tinny-sounding ringtone went off right beside his head from its perch on the nightstand. 

For one long, terrible moment, he thought it was his alarm going off and that it would be just like his dream - that terrible nightmare. Except, it’d be real this time, and he knew that if he looked to his right, he’d find an empty, cold patch of the bed that would only serve to remind him of what he no longer had. 

The ringer stopped after another several seconds, and he waited, dreading for that alarm to come blaring back again. It didn’t, but he chanced a look over his shoulder and made a weak sound when he saw exactly what he dreaded he would. 

That unoccupied spot lay there beside him, mocking him with its cool, bare sheets, and he felt hot tears prick at the corners of his eyes. His fingers gingerly reached out to touch that lonely spot... 

Just then, his phone went off again, startling him once more, and it was now that he realized the ringtone that had sounded wasn’t the same as the one he used for his alarm clock. His brows furrowed, and he rolled back over to face his phone, grabbing awkwardly for it without the help of his glasses. 

“What...?” 

He brought the screen close and read the name there, ‘_ Eddie Spaghetti _’, in all its goofy glory, and with it was the number’s picture he’d taken, the one he’d snapped while Eddie had been mid-sneeze. 

A sense of relief washed over him immediately, and the feeling of it was so great that it was nearly evident in his sleep-sluggish voice as he answered the call. “Hello?? Eddie??” 

“_ God _, yes, finally!” The other man sounded exasperated and overdramatic, like always – but also very much alive. “Dude, I’ve been trying to call you for almost half an hour! The hotel’s breakfast bar is about to close and I wanna know what fucking cereal you want before they pack everything up!” 

Eddie’s rambling voice added a few extra jabs into the headache that had already begun brewing, but Richie was grateful for each and every one. He sank back into his pillow and cupped a heavy hand over his eyes, rubbing the exhaustion out of his face. Mumbling, he asked, “Mmhh, what’s that one I like? _ Sonia-O's _? Do they have those?” He smirked at the frustrated sigh he got for that answer. 

“Fuck it, you’re getting Fruit Loops.” 

“And some orange juice, pretty please, with yo’ momma’s sugar on top?” 

Richie could hear the muffled swears as Eddie hung up on him, and he smiled with a tired fondness, the ache in his chest long gone away. 


End file.
